


Easy

by fuzipenguin



Series: Love is Still Love [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Asexual Character, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Other, Pansexual Character, Sticky, Twincest, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6411631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sideswipe is surprised by Sunstreaker's curiosity. But in no way is he put off by it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to white_aster and infamy for beta assistance!

               Sideswipe has asked his brother if he wanted to see a doctor about his interfacing issues exactly once in their life. The look of hurt and utter betrayal which crossed Sunstreaker’s face at the question had been more than enough incentive for Sideswipe to drop it.

                That… and the punch which crumpled his nasal ridge.

                To be fair, they had been young at the time, barely into their adult frames with brand new interface arrays and protocols. For Sideswipe, it was if someone had flicked a switch inside his body, turning all his focus to the new bits living within the apex of his thighs.

                Sunstreaker was the exact opposite. He could care less that he had new equipment and didn’t experience the same lust that Sideswipe did. He thought at first that maybe Sunstreaker was a late bloomer; after all, Sideswipe had been the first to both walk and talk.

                But more time passed and Sunstreaker still didn’t show the faintest hint of carnal desire. Confused, Sideswipe finally chalked it up to being a twin thing. Sunstreaker could create lifelike scenes with just a bit of charcoal while Sideswipe’s stick figures were always lopsided. Sideswipe could calculate equations on a genius level but Sunstreaker had a hard time beyond basic math.

                And Sideswipe desperately wanted to frag while Sunstreaker just… didn’t.

                Irritated with Sideswipe’s daily barrage of ‘how about now?’, Sunstreaker finally suggested Sideswipe take care of his urges with others. A little surprised, Sideswipe nevertheless went out that very night and found an older mech who was happy to guide Sideswipe through his first interface.

                Frame still buzzing, he had come home and immediately crawled into bed with his twin, both of them sleeping the soundest since they had first come into their adult frames.

                After that, Sideswipe continued to see other mecha with Sunstreaker’s blessing. At first, Sideswipe had been a little unnerved by Sunstreaker’s easy acceptance of the practice. But Sunstreaker compared Sideswipe’s excursions to Sunstreaker’s own trips to the detailer. They both got pleasure out of the acts, but it was a momentary thing and not true intimacy.

                Sideswipe had thought long and hard about that, because it certainly _seemed_ intimate to have another mech’s glossa, fingers, or spike penetrating one’s frame. But he never shared his spark with those other mecha. Nor did he cuddle them for long periods of time, just happily listening to them ventilate. To Sunstreaker, _those_ things defined intimacy between the two of them, and Sideswipe couldn’t disagree on that point.

                Yet he still experienced lust on a daily basis, because he so desperately wanted his brother. Sunstreaker was beautiful, strong and graceful, and Sideswipe had been unfurled loving his twin with all his spark. And he wanted to show that love by making Sunstreaker arch and moan beneath Sideswipe’s touch.

                He secretly kept hoping Sunstreaker would change his mind, that all he needed was time. Because those other mecha scratched Sideswipe’s itch, but Sunstreaker was the very cause of it.

                That tiny ember of hope raged into a wild fire the day Sunstreaker’s own natural charge caught up with him. He had been increasingly irritated over the prior few weeks, and a spilled paint jar caused a temper tantrum the likes of which Sideswipe had never before seen from his brother. Shortly after, Sunstreaker collapsed to the floor, writhing and whimpering.

                It took some time to figure out what was wrong as Sunstreaker had been nearly mad with the buildup of energy. But they did finally work out what Sunstreaker’s body was demanding and then Sunstreaker was overloading for the first time, loudly and messily. Afterwards, Sunstreaker had slunk to the washracks, utterly disgusted and embarrassed, and Sideswipe’s hope had died a sad, whimpering death.

                Sideswipe had given himself a good talking to after that. The simple fact was Sunstreaker didn’t experience lust and he probably never would. Just because his body built up a natural charge didn’t make interfacing any more appealing to Sunstreaker. In fact, it seemed to make him despise it more. So Sideswipe was determined to accept Sunstreaker as he was and support him in any way he needed.

                He likes to think he’s done a good job since.

                Things have evolved over time, anyway. They worked out the system of drawing off charge through medical ports and learned what works best for Sunstreaker when he misses that window of opportunity.

                And lately, Sunstreaker has been showing an interest in Sideswipe’s interfacing equipment. It’s obviously an interest driven by clinical curiosity rather than lust, yet Sideswipe quite enjoys the attention despite that. He’s already demonstrated how he strokes his spike to overload as well as how he best likes to stimulate his valve.

                No matter how much Sunstreaker has progressed over time however, he still shows a strange aversion to his own valve, preferring to relieve charge via his spike if need be.

               Which is why Sideswipe nearly falls over in shock when Sunstreaker curiously reaches out and cups Sideswipe’s bared valve moments after he finishes rinsing his array.

               He ends up sprawled against the shower wall, engine revving in a high pitched noise of surprise.  Sunstreaker yanks his hand back, and stares at him, optics wide and startled.

               “Did I hurt you?” Sunstreaker demands, the overhead spray of the washrack continuing to sprinkle down and bead up on their plating.

               “Frag, no,” Sideswipe replies bluntly, still feeling the echoes from the press of his twin’s palm. No one touch should be allowed to feel so good. “Just surprised me, is all. Whatcha doing?”

               He pushes off from the wall and crowds back under the showerhead, his spark spinning madly. There is no lust written on Sunstreaker’s face, so it must have been a random thought that had prompted the action. Nevertheless, Sideswipe’s valve is throbbing in excitement, and it’s a fight to tamp down his desire.

               Sunstreaker tilts his head to the side and looks down between them, forehelm furrowing in thought. “You like your valve being touched,” he states.

               “Yeaaaah,” Sideswipe drawls, unable to stop of the flush of heat which overcomes him at his brother’s considering look. “Very much so.”

               “I can’t see as well when you touch yourself there,” Sunstreaker comments. “I don’t get it.”

               Now it’s Sideswipe’s turn to look at his brother in confusion. “Get what? You’ve overloaded a few times through your valve before, right?”

               Sunstreaker nods. “Twice. But not from inside. That’s…” he trails off, shaking his head and looking uncomfortable.

               “Why don’t you like the thought of that?” Sideswipe gently asks, retrieving the dropped sponge. It’s still soapy so he reaches out and soothingly traces it over Sunstreaker’s shoulders, despite the fact that he’d already done it several minutes ago. He needs something to occupy his hands, and Sunstreaker looks as if he needs a reassuring touch.

               “Things shouldn’t…,” Sunstreaker shifts in place, frowning. “Knives and swords make holes… guns too. It’s not right.”

               Sideswipe slides the sponge up the side of Sunstreaker’s neck and pats his brother’s side. “Valves are natural holes. They’re meant to be there, for interfacing. Your mouth is a hole… connects farther inside your frame than your valve does,” he reasons.

               “A mouth serves a purpose,” Sunstreaker responds tartly. “Valves are just there for something I don’t want or need.”

               “Yeah, I get that,” Sideswipe says, thinking it about it from his brother’s point of view. “I guess you think spikes are the same?”

               “Pretty much,” Sunstreaker sighs. “I need one or the other to relieve charge. But I prefer the spike… a valve just feels so much more… internal. And I want the charge out of me, not in.”

               He’s beginning to fidget uncomfortably, so Sideswipe thinks maybe it’s time to finish the wash and dry off. Distract his brother with something that isn’t interfacing related. So he rinses out the sponge and is getting ready to turn the water off when Sunstreaker surprises him by speaking again.

               “Can I…?”

               Sideswipe looks back at his twin to see Sunstreaker reaching out. “Hmm? Can you what?”

               Sunstreaker crooks two of his fingers and wriggles them a little, and Sideswipe’s processor screeches to a halt. The sponge drops, making a soft ‘splat’ on the floor. “You wanna feel me up?!”

               “Yeah. Is that ok?” Sunstreaker hesitantly asks, his arm dropping slightly.

               “Yup. Uh huh, absolutely fine, you can do whatever you want,” Sideswipe babbles, spinning around and throwing his arms out to the sides.

               This is like every sexy dream he’s ever had about his brother. Oh Primus, please don’t let it be a dream, _please._

               Sunstreaker gives him a deadpan look. “Why did I ever think you’d say no?” he asks, taking a step forward and touching Sideswipe’s lower belly, just above his closed spike housing. Sideswipe automatically spreads his feet, giving his twin room to slide his hand between Sideswipe’s suddenly quaking thighs.

               “ _Some_ times I’m not in the mood,” Sideswipe retorts haughtily.

               “Uh huh,” Sunstreaker says in disbelief, his pointer finger brushing over the top of Sideswipe’s valve. His hand stills, and he looks earnestly into Sideswipe’s optics. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

               “You won’t,” Sideswipe promises, processor going hazy at the light, warm pressure ghosting over his array. “Go slow … explore at your own place. Ummm….”

               “What?” Sunstreaker asks, suddenly looking nervous.

               Sideswipe bites his lower lip, offering his brother a tremulous smile. “I may overload. Actually, it’s pretty likely. Just a warning.”

               “Just from this?” Sunstreaker asks, his finger sliding a little farther down Sideswipe’s folds. Sideswipe bites his lip harder as he automatically tilt his pelvis forward.

               “Yup. You’ve got the magic touch, bro, what can I say.”

               Sunstreaker’s forehelm crinkles again, and Sideswipe has the urge to kiss the little crease that appears in the softer facial plating. So he reaches up and pulls Sunstreaker’s helm down and does just that, his spark feeling full and warm as he releases his twin.

               “If that freaks you out…”

               “No. It’s fine. I’ve seen you do it,” Sunstreaker replies with a shake of his head. “I just don’t understand how one finger is going to make you overload, though. You normally use three, don’t you?”

               “Anticipation. And it’s _you_ ,” Sideswipe replies faintly as Sunstreaker’s finger moves again. It traces the outer seams of his folds, up and down… up and down. It’s something he’s done a million times to himself, but now that it’s _Sunstreaker_ in front of him… Sideswipe thinks he might pass out from delirious pleasure. Then the digit dips between the folds, brushing over his nub, and he almost does.

                His arms fly out, gripping Sunstreaker’s elbows with bruising strength. Sunstreaker freezes, staring at him wide-optiked again.

               “It’s fine. Promise. You found my node,” Sideswipe explains, pausing a moment to drag his processor back from its current state of babbling incoherency. His brother was new to this and obviously worried about hurting Sideswipe. Pfft. As if. Nevertheless, Sideswipe needed to reassure him. “From here on out… unless I actually say ‘stop’, every noise, every action, _everything_ I do is approval. Got it?”

                “All right,” Sunstreaker replies after a moment of hesitation. “You sure?”

                “So much very,” Sideswipe immediately says.

                Sunstreaker nods again, his finger continuing its gentle exploration. Sideswipe is still slick from the water, so Sunstreaker’s digit smoothly rubs across the pulsing anterior node. Sunstreaker circles it, exploring its edges while Sideswipe does his very best not to tremble apart.

                “You’ve… touched your node before… to overload your valve?” Sideswipe asks, trying to distract himself. Although imagining Sunstreaker playing with his own valve is probably not the best way to do that.

                “Yeah. It was odd. Such a little thing,” Sunstreaker answers, pressing harder against the nub before moving on. Sideswipe can’t really do much but agree with that statement so he nods silently, watching Sunstreaker’s expression morph into a certain blankness indicative of intense concentration.

                Sunstreaker’s finger nudges up against the side of the outer lips just below the node, hooking under them and playing with them for a full minute. After a while he impatiently huffs, and his touch becomes more probing. “Where’s…?”

               Oh, that’s adorable. And so, _so_ hot.

               “Farther down. Just a little… there,” Sideswipe squeaks as Sunstreaker’s fingertip catches on the internal rim of the actual port. He explores the entire perimeter, Sideswipe unable to hold back the moan crawling its way up the back of his throat.

               “You’re wet,” Sunstreaker says in surprise.

               They’re still under the shower, but Sideswipe knows Sunstreaker is referring to the lubricant slicking his internal walls and starting to seep out of his entrance. “Uh huh. Feels good.”

               He transfers his hands higher up onto Sunstreaker’s arms and tilts his pelvis even closer towards his brother.  “You can… can actually go… oh, frag,” he groans, a burst of molten heat washing over him.

               “Interesting,” Sunstreaker comments, probably referring to the wild clasp of Sideswipe’s walls against the finger now buried knuckle deep in his port.

               Oh, _Primus_ … Sideswipe’s spark is whirling so fast he thinks he might die. Barely a finger and already he’s on the cusp of overload.   

               “Push… push me against the wall,” Sideswipe manages, shivering so badly he’s worried he’ll be able to stay standing.

               “Can’t you just take a step back?” Sunstreaker asks, irritated. The very tip of his glossa pokes out between his lips as he gently wiggles his fingertip. And oh, that familiar annoyed expression should not be as arousing as it is. Sideswipe’s lower belly clenches and the tension there continues to build to an almost painful level.

               Sideswipe’s grip on Sunstreaker’s arms tightens until he winces. “Indulge me,” Sideswipe says in a strangled voice that barely sounds like him at all.

               Huffing, Sunstreaker uses his upper body and essentially shoves Sideswipe backwards. He impacts the wall rather gently, but the motion jostles Sunstreaker’s finger and now his twin is practically looming over him, beautiful and intent, and Sideswipe chokes out a desperate moan as he struggles to hold his climax back. His valve spirals down, trying to suck Sunstreaker’s finger deeper and his brother stares down between them with an expression of amazement.

               “So tight. I didn’t think you’d be this tight. You actually take three fingers? You really can take something as big as my spike?” Sunstreaker wonders.

               It’s an innocent question, Sideswipe knows it is. But it’s the final straw. Imagining Sunstreaker’s hard length piercing Sideswipe’s folds and finding its home inside his port tips him over that razor sharp edge into a wailing overload. He throws his head back, hitting his helm against the wall hard enough to fritz his vision. Or is that because of the overwhelming bliss radiating from deep within his belly and burning him up?

               Nevertheless, he comes back to himself nearly a full minute later, as his chronometer helpfully tells him. He’s propped up against the wall, knees locked in place, and his hand wrapped tightly around Sunstreaker’s wrist.

               “Sorry. Sorry,” he mutters faintly, releasing Sunstreaker’s hand and feeling his knuckles pop from the punishing grip he had used.

               But Sunstreaker isn’t angry or confused. He’s looking at Sideswipe thoughtfully, bordering on awe. “You overloaded. I barely touched you.”    

               Words are still a fuzzy thing, so Sideswipe just shrugs helplessly.

               “It _is_ me. You’ve never overloaded that fast while I was watching.”

               “Never came… as fast with anyone… else as when… you were watching either,” Sideswipe replies, ventilations still ragged and harsh. And lookee there, processing power was returning!

               “I do this to you?” Sunstreaker presses, wriggling his finger within Sideswipe’s valve. He shutters his optics in bliss as the action sends pleasure shooting through his neural net.

               “Yes,” Sideswipe says, nodding frantically. “Love you. Want you. Always want you.”

               Sunstreaker makes a noise which has Sideswipe’s optics shooting back open. Sunstreaker’s expression has crumpled into one of misery.  

               “I’m sorry. I didn’t… “

               Oh, frag. That wasn’t what he had meant to happen at all. Sideswipe shoves Sunstreaker’s hand away and pushes himself off the wall, latching onto Sunstreaker with a desperate grunt. Both for support of his wobbly legs and to reassure his twin.

               “No, no, no,” Sideswipe rushes to say. “I want this. But I don’t _need_ this. You could never touch me like this again, and I’d die a happy mech. I want you to be comfortable and feel safe; that’s way more important to me than an overload.”

               “But this was so easy,” Sunstreaker laments against Sideswipe’s cheek. “It’s hard for me, but you just… all I had to do was touch you. You do so much for me, and I haven’t… I can’t believe how _easy_ it was and it wasn’t even mes… what the _frag_.”

               Sideswipe rears back at Sunstreaker’s sudden flat tone. Still using his brother as a prop, Sideswipe watches Sunstreaker hold his hand up and flick his wrist rapidly.

               “There is _lubricant_ in my _joints,_ Sideswipe. This is _disgusting_ ,” Sunstreaker complains, frantically rubbing his fingers together under the flow of water.

               Sideswipe blinks at his twin’s irritated expression and then starts chuckling. In seconds, he’s practically hanging off Sunstreaker, giggling hysterically

               “Sideswipe!” Sunstreaker whines. “It’s not funny!”

               “I’m… sorry!” Sideswipe gasps. “I’ll… I’ll clean you up, promise. Then I’ll introduce you to the concept of gloves.”

 

~ End


End file.
